Back in mid February I mentioned a small coving workaround that was taking shape. A small discrepancy between as-built conditions and the construction plan presented a challenge/opportunity for our coving progress.
There are ledgers along the north wall and south wall top plates that… [result in] a 1-1/2” step near the top of the wall… [but], our construction plan (A402, detail 4) does not account for this plane discrepancy. I’m endeavoring to integrate the step structurally into the cove construction. Although this structural element creates an added challenge, I actually think that it might contribute to a pragmatic solution. (Source: Ciphering on Icehouse Coving – Rosslyn Redux)
And today I have some good news to relay: structural integration for coving in the icehouse’s vaulted ceiling area is now complete. The photo at the top of this post shows it wrapping around the north, west, and south walls at the height where ceiling and the north/south walls meet. In the photo below you can see a close-up of the north wall where a new horizontal ledger has been installed and the “shelf” has been fastened underneath.
Icehouse Coving Progress (Credit: Eric Crowningshield)
Rereading that last paragraph, I’ve stumped myself! To clarify, let’s start out with the original detail from the construction plan.
Icehouse Coving Detail v2 (Credit: Tiho Dimitrov)
The most notable discrepancy with as-built conditions was a horizontal ledger that had been installed on the north and south walls. Secured to the top plate, this ledger provided alignment and bracing for all of the new rafters that were sistered in back in 2006/7 when we salvaged the collapsing roof. The detail had performed well over the last decade and a half, and we had no intention of altering it. But we did need to accommodate it in our construction plan.
In the sketch below, several tweaks to my earlier “cove ciphering”, allowed us to simplify, streamline, and better support the coving “shelf” that extends out from the walls. (See horizontal 2×8 in image below.)
The next step will be to encase the 2x8s with trim (dimensional poplar) that will meet up with T&G nickel gap paneling on the ceiling and walls as shown above. Cove crown will be installed beneath the shelf, and an aluminum track will be installed in the corner of the shelf to secure LED strip lighting. Updates soon, I hope!
North façade progress. Yes, it’s only a bathroom window, but it’s 1/8 of the fenestration on this elevation AND this aperture allows the bathroom to enjoy natural light for the first time in many months.
Bathroom Window Installed (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
And since the three non operable windows have already been installed, we’re actually halfway to the finish line. Of course, there’s still plenty of window trim to be installed, but…
Bathroom Window Installed (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
The closeup above shows that we have another identical window still waiting to be installed in the mechanical room. But little by little this side of Rosslyn is starting to approach Tiho’s the architectural rendering.
Bathroom Window Installed (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
And a quick glimpse inside the interior of the bathroom where Eric and Matt are installing the garapa paneling offers some hint of the measure of progress that a single window installation can afford.
Tucked into the folds of the icehouse rehab scope of work some accomplishments stand out more than others. The garapa paneling in the bathroom, for example, has been a long, slooow labor of love many months in the making. Many stages and many hands have shaped this initiative, so anticipation has been building for many months. The column flanked vestibule (and the bookmatched ash threshold upon which they rest) is different. I’ll try to explain why this installation is momentous for me.
Justin Installing Columns (Photo: Geo Davis)
[Let’s start with the] architectural salvage [of]… Greek Revival columns that we salvaged from Rosslyn’s future dining room back in 2006 in the early days or our renovation project. (Source: Architectural Salvage: Repurposed Columns)
Icehouses didn’t historically rely upon columns for structural support, of course. They were utilitarian buildings purpose built to preserve ice cut from lakes, ponds, and rivers during winter to ensure access to ice (and cold storage) during more temperate seasons. Icehouse design was practical. Embellishments like Greek Revival columns would have been impractical, perhaps even frivolous.
But, needless to say, Rosslyn‘s icehouse rehabilitation is not an historic preservation project. It is an adaptive reuse project. It’s heart and soul is relevance to us today. Think dynamic, multipurpose, vibrant. Think simple and minimalist, but beautiful. Think inviting. Think whimsical. Straddling an unlikely divide — home office (though I prefer the connotations of study/studio) and recreation/entertaining space — the icehouse we’re conjuring into existence will blend productivity, creativity, wellness, and the largely outdoor lifestyle that we favor.
Why, you might well ask, would we need two imposing columns inside the diminutive icehouse? While the question is reasonable, perhaps *need* is not the most appropriate evaluation. After all, adaptive reuse of a utility building originally constructed to fulfill a highly specific (and outdated) function obviously doesn’t *need* handsome embellishments for structural support. And yet the opportunity to re-integrate these historic Rosslyn elements into an otherwise utilitarian barn has presented a whimsical challenge that at some level echoes the unlikely marriage of work space and recreation hub we’re imagining into existence with this newest rehab project. (Source: Re-tuning Columns)
Just as fusing work and play in a single space might initially seem incompatible, designing a column flanked vestibule inside an icehouse might evoke concerns of incongruity. Fair concern. And final judgment will be for you to make once we reach completion.
Peter in Column Flanked Vestibule (Photo: Geo Davis)
And so as we stride toward completions of the icehouse rehabilitation I draw your attention not only to the finally repurposed columns that once supported a beam in Rosslyn’s dining room. Now let your eyes drift down to the floor, to the bookmatched ash threshold crafted byPeter from some of our homegrown stump-to-lumber hardwood. Yes, it’s breathtaking. And, yes, the charactered grain forms a large stylized heart (and an enormous grin!)
Columns, threshold, and header are finally coalescing in a long envisioned “spatial transition from the more intimate entrance and coffee bar into the loftier main room”. Witnessing this accomplishment after so many months of planning and anticipation filled me with joy. It affirmed hopes and plans, it rewarded a risky design decision, defining and framing two functionally distinct spaces without losing the transparency and porosity. It instills a playful unlikelihood in an otherwise mostly predictable environment. It filters light dramatically, adding sensuous silhouettes to an otherwise geometric linearity. It delineates without restricting. It is a suggestion. It is poetry.
And, although there’s more work to be completed before a final assessment is justified, I am immensely pleased with the column flanked vestibule. Thank you, Peter. Thank you, Justin.
Many new and exciting thresholds crossed today. Supi, Calvin, and Tony started the stone hardscape project. Peter and Justin installed the columns and book matched ash transition upon which they rest. We finalized the shower glass order, and we *almost* finalized the coffee bar countertop stone. Eric arrived at the halfway point in the bathroom garapa paneling. And Brandon started installing the wiring for the hot tub. What a day!
Brandon Wiring the Hot Tub (Photo: Geo Davis)
It’s pretty exciting yo be one step closer to our first soak in Rosslyn’s icehouse spa! Brandon and his assistant will be back first thing tomorrow to wrap up the preliminary wiring so that the slab can be poured later this week. Hot tub, wiring, concrete slab, and then… we’ll be one giant step closer to soaking our bones and celebrating.
Brandon has been for a couple of years as the electrician for the boathouse gangway / waterfront rehabilitation, the deck rebuild, and the icehouse adaptive reuse. He’s been a tremendous asset, problem solving mystery after mystery, and shoehorning his work into challenging intervals throughout all three projects.
We can’t wait to celebrate another finished project soon!
Rosslyn’s icehouse looks a little different this evening. The east entrance door was installed by Peter, subtly transforming the most visible elevation of the building and finally illuminating the entrance hallway with natural light after months in a “cloistered” work environment without any natural light.
East Door Installed (Photo: Geo Davis)
Although there remains some additional shimming and trimming (plus removing paint from the window panes), the public facade of the icehouse is finally coming into focus. However, another element will appear about a month from now, a familiar element for those already accustomed to this facade. I’m going to keep mum for now, but a fun surprise soon!
East Door Installed (Photo: Geo Davis)
The much anticipated exterior change is only half the news. The interior is transformed! Sure, the overpainting tempers the impact of this new door, but it’s already recasting the interior in natural light. And a welcome evolution this is. You might recall that all windows and doors were closed in with insulated paneling months ago to ensure a warm, weatherproof work environment during the winter. Well, it worked perfectly, but everyone on the team is longing for natural light. At last the entrance vestibule is illuminated from without. I’m looking forward to starting my day in the icehouse tomorrow morning to see that it looks with the sunrise bathing the interior…
Reinventing Rosslyn’s icehouse as a hybrid home office and recreation/entertaining space has taken center stage intermittently since last summer (planning board and permitting) and continuously since last autumn (deconstruction and reconstructing). In fact, it sometimes feels like the icehouse rehabilitation has eclipsed just about everything else. This evening’s snapshot, our icehouse backlit by setting sun, appears to show the building emitting a halo of light. It kind of captures the vibes of this project in recent months!
Backlit Icehouse, May 5, 2023 (Photo: Geo Davis)
Backlit, Haiku
Old icehouse backlit; sunsetting a prior use, moon rising a new.
I’ve talked plenty about this project metaphorically backlit against the ideas of historic rehabilitation and adaptive reuse. And I’ve examined ways in which this latest chapter in a slow rolling renovation that’s been ongoing in one capacity or another since 2006 is backlit by our lifestyle choice to leave NYC and relocate to Essex. But I haven’t really developed the literal, visual impact of this charming building — my “Multipurpose Man Cave” — offset by the sun settling into the Adirondacks.
Backlit Rehab
But this deserves some ink. As too sundown and the gloaming as observed from the soon-to-be-complete icehouse terrace, patio, hot tub,… Still an unphotogenic construction site, there are never these moments, like this evening, when I get a glimpse of how things might look and feel by midsummer.
For now, no more ink. Just a backlit snapshot of Rosslyn’s icehouse rehab looming large, glowing, dramatic.
Mowie surveying the “multipurpose man cave” (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
In recent years, the terms “she shed” and “man cave” have wiggled their way into our everyday vocabulary. Maybe not ubiquitous, but both can be uttered without explanation. I’m generally disinclined to adopt these here-today, gone-tomorrow buzzwords. Too trendy. Too contrived. Too something, though I’m not 100% certain. Today I’ve decided it’s time to pop the bubble and swim in the mainstream. It’s time for a test drive. Today’s icehouse rehab is tomorrow’s “Multipurpose Man Cave”!
In the photo above, Pam’s dog Mowie survey the multipurpose man cave (likely thinking to herself that’s it’s a multipurpose dog house…)
It’s funny how our differing perspectives influence our ways of seeing, understanding, defining, and describing. We’ve always referred to Rosslyn’s icehouse as “The Icehouse”. We probably still will.
But maybe not. Maybe “Multipurpose Man Cave” or “Multiuse Man Cave” or “Multiuse Retreat” or “Multipurpose Oasis” or “Flex-use Sanctuary” or “Stand-alone Studio”… Probably none of these, but each conveys something notable. Once rehabilitation is complete and the former utility barn is reborn, it will be a home office and entertainment space hybrid where productive and playful can cross-pollinate!
We turn our gaze upon stairs, a rudimentary machine known as an inclined plane. Yes, I am referring to the triumph of engineering that allows us to easily and almost effortlessly transition between stories. Today we look at stairway progress in the icehouse.
When ascending or descending a staircase, do you ever consider the structure and finish upon which you tread? The framing is stout and reliable, the dimensions precisely dictated by building regulations and aesthetics, the handrail and head clearance code compliant but also intuitive and comfortable, and the constituent parts so well integrated that they cease to be treads and risers and balusters and become a single element as familiar and user friendly as countless others you’ve trafficked over a lifetime.
Stairway Progress (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Although the structural undergirding for the icehouse stairs has been in place for a few months, the finished staircase is just now beginning to pull the parts together. New stairway progress includes installation of stair treads and risers, and preparation for the riser lights that will subtly illuminate the treads after dark. With half of the staircase complete, attention turns to the treads and risers above the midway landing and installation of scotia molding at the junction of risers and treads.
Stairway Progress (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Baserails, balusters, and handrails will complete the incremental assembly, completing the simple machine which likely go mostly unnoticed after completion. Despite its central location. Despite its vital utility. Its many parts will have become one. And it will be taken for granted. Perhaps. Perhaps not…
Once upon a time Rosslyn was the Sherwood Inn, an accommodation for vacationers, a restaurant, and a colonial taproom. As I understand, it there was a clay tennis court adjacent to the icehouse in those years.
Tennis Net Post with Icehouse Deck and Carriage House (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Perhaps the tennis court pre-dates the Sherwood Inn, dating back to Hyde Gate House? I will certainly update this post if and when I discover the answer.
Old Tennis Net Post (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
A single steel tennis net post still stood in the lawn. For some reason, we never removed it, kept it for all these years. A rusty relic, a monument to a tennis-y past.
Excavating Old Tennis Court (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
But now it it gone. Bob and Phil removed it to make way for the landscaping around the soon-to-be complete icehouse deck.
Excavating Tennis Net Near Icehouse (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
While I’m pleased with the progress, enthusiastic about the forthcoming transformation, it’s nevertheless a slightly poignant passing. Sentimental for a tennis court I never witnessed, never played upon? Yes. A little.
As Rosslyn’s icehouse rehab heads into the final few laps, were beginning to focus on finishes details. In the case of T&G nickel gap installation that means that the large planes (walls and ceilings) are almost complete, so the team’s focus on nickel gapping the remaining nooks and crannies.
Matt Nickel Gapping Corner (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
In the photograph above, Matt is mitering and fastening T&G around an inverted corner located at the southeast of the building. The engineer stipulated that two corners — this one as well as the northeast one, located in the bathroom — have load bearing structural columns helping to ensure structural integrity of the loft. Because we’re taking the time to miter (45° angle-cut) both our convex *and* concave corners these finicky little details take time. But details matter!
Matt Nickel Gapping Ceiling (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
By the time Matt moved on to the ceiling, he’d completed the corner as you can see above. Nickel gapping corners like this requires attention to detail and patience, painstakingly ensuring that the horizontal grooves line up perfectly and the mitered corners, especially the convert corner, close up 100%.
Nickel Gap Nooks & Crannies in Coffee Bar (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
This next pair of photos focuses on the interior wall behind the coffee bar. Note nickel gapping up from the cabinet carcass, just reaching the two apertures in the wall. These will both be finish into niches, the right trimmed into shelves, and the left trimmed into a cabinet with interior shelves.
Cabinet and Niche in Coffee Bar (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
In this final photograph the wall and niches are beginning to reveal themselves. And yet a sneak peek through the left opening reveals the backside of the staircase and newly installed nickel gapping in the stairwell. A fleeting view that will soon vanish as we finish up the stairs and the cabinetry.
Still nooks and crannies today. But nickel gapping and trimming in the days ahead will transform these mercurial rough spots into seamless details that collectively contribute to a seamless, cohesive, and unified interior design. Or so we hope!
An endoskeleton for the soon-to-be loft shelving has begun to take shape.
Loft Shelving (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Shop-built carcasses fabricated by Bernie Liberty have been delivered and installation has begun. Lining the north and south knee walls, these reading repositories will soon be lined with bound words. One further step toward completion of my icehouse loft study.
Loft Shelving Haiku
Book bound words in a reading repository, icehouse loft shelving.
A little forward leaning, I suppose. Aspirational. Projecting, courtesy of my imagination, a few weeks forward…
I’m slightly obsessed with transitions and betweenness. Liminality and interstices. Metamorphosis, reawakening, and transformation inevitably weave themselves into my words about gardening and historic rehabilitation. In fact, in a not altogether exaggerated sense, Rosslyn Redux is a kind of carefree contemplation of thresholds, the art of thresholds, and the artifacts of crossing thresholds…
From carpentry fiasco (boathouse gangway) to carpentry triumph (house deck), from summer to autumn (bittersweet seasonality), from hale and hardy to COVID crash dummy, from perennially postponed icehouse rehab to 100% timely reboot, from Adirondacks to southwest,… We are awash in transitions! (Source: Transitions)
Supi and Peter Fabricate a Charactered Threshold (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
One of the most notable changes in the icehouse rehab is a considerable increase in apertures, transparency, and porosity. With an eye to more seamlessly integrating the interior and exterior experience while reducing the potentially confining ambience of such a small (approximately 18’ x 30’) structure, we have introduced lots of glass.
Windows and doors blur boundaries between the enclosed environment and the exterior views, landscape, hardscape, decks and courtyard. Within the interior we’ve also endeavored to maximize transparency and porosity by embracing an open plan.
Only the bathroom is fully enclosed. Other zones (entrance, coffee bar, main room, and loft study/studio/office) flow into one another permitting the small volume to feel more ample. Design continuity and viewshed integration enhance this sense of openness, favoring cohesion and harmony over spatial subdivision by function. And yet, subtle transitions (i.e. a doorway threshold, the staircase and banister to loft.) are present and necessary.
In these instances delineation and boundaries serve us. Sometimes the utility is practical. For example, the loft is enclosed with a banister that extends from the top of the staircase to the north and south knee walls. Although code compliance is the most obvious reason for this, the underpinning logic is that a railing enclosing the second-story loft ensures that we do not accidentally pitch off the edge. The porosity of railing and balusters affords transparency, but the sturdy boundary ensures safety, as much a visual cue (caution, stay back, etc.) as a functional restraint.
Flooring transitions and how they help differentiate space and use warrant careful consideration. This is true in the icehouse where the top stair riser meets the loft floor, representing a meeting of dissimilar materials (painted poplar staircase and sealed beech flooring) and a blurring of function (stair tread and flooring). It is also true in the elm and garapa threshold that I conceived and Peter created for the icehouse bathroom doorway.
The highly charactered elm — grown, harvested, aged, milled, and finished on Rosslyn’s property — will integrate with the ash and elm flooring in the main floor of the icehouse. (Source: Elm and Garapa Threshold)
Today’s update considers the passage from the east entrance and coffee bar area into the main room of the icehouse. In addition to a shift in function and feel, the 8’ flat ceiling in the entrance and coffee bar area opens up to a 2-story cathedral ceiling in the main room. Accentuating this transition with a pair of columns that flank the passageway adds a touch of drama and playfulness given the incongruity of the diminutive space and the dominant pillars.
The elm and ash flooring will run east-west, so a threshold of sorts, seamlessly conjoining while differentiating the two zones presented an opportunity. Thresholds — door treads, doorsills, etc. — signal the ending of one space and the beginning of another space. But they often function as weather barrier and/or doorstop as well, resulting in a profile raised above the floor plane. I did not desire this threshold to deviate from the floor. Subtler than a doorway threshold, I nevertheless wanted to offer a visual cue that a transition is being made between two zones, a perhaps subconscious delineation of usage.
I explained my vision, first to Hroth and subsequently to Peter, for a threshold running perpendicular to the flooring and wide enough to frame the column plinths equally around the outer perimeter. Fabricated out of the same ash or elm that we are using for the floor, I proposed a pair of book matched planks that would cause pause and invite interest. I asked them to think of this over-wide threshold, not as a throwaway intended simply to bridge otherwise similar areas of flooring, but instead as an integrated piece of art. A contiguous embellishment within the broader “tapestry” of the floor. Character-rich grain and coloration. Precise joinery, perhaps an inlaid bowtie if necessary and aesthetically pleasing. An interstitial experience/object as bold and intriguing as the columns that rest upon it.
Peter Conjoins Charactered Boards for Threshold (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
As you can see, Peter has begun to transform the vision into reality. A mesmerizing tableau to be tread upon. The art of thresholds.
